


Blue Hair and Brush-Strokes (Luminerik Painter and Subject AU)(DISCONTINUED)

by Galaxy_Phoenix



Category: Dragon Quest Series, Dragon Quest XI
Genre: Alternate Universe, Cuddling, Domestic Fluff, Eventual Romance, Fluff, Fluff and Humor, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Abuse, Just expect a lot of Fluff okay, Late night cuddling, M/M, Painting, Romantic Fluff, lots of painting
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-01-09
Updated: 2020-04-17
Packaged: 2021-02-22 16:40:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 9,756
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22186549
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Galaxy_Phoenix/pseuds/Galaxy_Phoenix
Summary: Eleven is a budding painter who is traveling to Heliodor to set up shop and start a new life.Erik is a street rat from Downtown Heliodor trying to survive and dreams of a better life.They've yet to know it, but their lives are about to be intertwined.
Relationships: Camus | Erik & Hero | Luminary, Camus | Erik/Hero | Luminary (Dragon Quest XI)
Comments: 5
Kudos: 38





	1. Welcome to Heliodor!

**Author's Note:**

> This will be a series, so depending on how it's written later, some tags may be adjusted accordingly.

_“Grandpa!”_

_A child’s voice rang out as a little boy ran up to the door frame of a small brick workshop just past his house. He glanced into the doorway to see into Chalky’s workshop, with its countless projects either hung or draped over the table that was already covered with open paints of hundreds of colors in jars that were much older than him. The walls were lined with all of his tools placed in little buckets of metal._

_His grandpa turned around to his see his grandson standing in the door, excitedly looking at everything._

_“Come on in! Don’t be a stranger!” Chalky encouraged him._

_Eleven beamed and ran in to meet him, pulling up a stool with him and placing it next to his grandfather._

_“Whatcha working on?”_

_“Just another landscape, laddie.”_

_Eleven sat there and was enthralled by every brush-stroke that his grandfather did. He always had a steady hand and it showed in his works. It came from decades of experience and Eleven knew that._

_He hoped that he would be just as good as him._

_“Your mother told me you had a piece to show me?”_

_“Oh yeah!” Eleven suddenly remembered with stars in his eyes as he ran to the corner of the shop, his own little corner that Chalky made for him. He pulled out his little drawer and carefully took out his canvas that he finished just yesterday. He ran back to his grandfather, who gingerly took the canvas from his small hands and examined it. A warm smile crept on his face the more studied his canvas and this gave Eleven confidence._

_“Well, I wasn’t aware we had another artist in the family!” Chalky exclaimed as he set the canvas aside and hoisted his grandson up in the air and back in his arms, much to the boy’s happy amusement._

_“Is it really that good?”_

_“For your age, absolutely!”_

_“Do you think you can teach me to be as good as you?”_

_“I’m sure your mother wouldn’t mind.”_

That was one of his favorite memories of his old grandfather and now he was looking from above, hopefully with a smile. Now he was older and officially considered one of the grown-ups, he now finally had the chance to become a better painter than before. 

His horse was completely packed with supplies, from food to his art equipment. He adjusted his purple duster and turned back to face the small crowd that had gathered to see him off. He had made his decision to go to Heliodor to expand his career as an aspiring painter and there was nothing that was going to stop him.

He was nervous. About to go to a distant land far from home to pursue a dream he's had since he was little. His heart was beating fast in his chest.

He was about to go until he heard a voice call to him, telling him to wait. He turned his head to the direction of the sound and found Gemma, his old best friend of many years, running up to him with something in her hands.

"Thank goodness I caught you… I made this for you. I’ve been working on it for a while, finishing it just this morning.”

Gemma held out her hands and revealed a little blue bag tied at the top. He knew that she was crafty and he would be lying if he said he wasn't intrigued by the charm. He put it in his bag for safe-keeping.

“The world is going to be a rather scary place at times, but I wouldn’t worry too much with a smart head and a big heart like you’ve got. All you’ll have to do is find the gentleman that I mentioned from before. His name is Edmund and if I recall, he lives in the more well-to-do side of town. You’ll know what I mean when you get to it. He’s the one that owes me a favor by helping you settle down there and find a place to get started. According to him, he says he’s found the perfect place. Anyhow, it looks like you have everything. You take care of yourself and write back to your mother every now and again, you hear?” Dunstan spoke to him. 

Eleven assured them that he was ready and thanked them for the boost of confidence. He took once last look at his mother, who was amongst the crowd. She gave him an encouraging smile, which helped put his nervous heart at ease.

Soon he was off to Heliodor to start his career and his new life from home. He got Helena moving on his way and on the road he went. After passing the canyon path, he rode into the open field of the Heliodor region. He took a moment to look at the environment around him, amazed by the sheer beauty of this new world. Over in the distance, he could see the famous castle looming in the distance, its grand stature enough to inspire awe in the greatest of architects. Excitement swelled in his chest and he felt a sense of confidence in his new venture, so he continued to gallop across the plains, over the river and on the dusty, well-worn path to the city gates, which switched from the dust of the wilderness to the brick tile path of civilization. Along the left side were small catapults and other long-distance weaponry controlled by the foot soldiers in their green and blue uniforms and all on sturdy wooden platforms.

“Good afternoon sir! Is this your first time here?”

“Yes, I am and I’m here to start a small business, sir. I’m a painter from a small village and I have an appointment with a gentleman named Edmund who was said to live in the lower district.”

Eleven then handed the slip of paper that confirmed what he said and allowed a moment for the foot soldier to look it over. After the foot soldier gave the nod of approval, Eleven watched at the city gates went up. 

“The lower district is just ahead of you. The upper district is beyond that, but I would be wary of downtown, it’s to the east of the kingdom. That’s all I can tell you.”

“Thank you, you’ve done more than enough.”

At this, Eleven entered through the city gates and dismounted his horse. Landing on the ground, he finally took a look at the city around him.

If he could immediately describe one word, it was _massive._

The buildings were all easily several stories tall and made of buff and tan bricks carefully coordinated to create these impressive structures, ones that have lasted easily hundreds of years, all topped with red brick domes. The grand fountain was the centerpiece of the town and was made of wet, smooth stone that glistened in the sun. The entrance leading up to the upper district was decorated in ogee three-centered arches and round arches, carved and placed to perfection to provide a taste of the majestic nature of the castle, which loomed in the distance. 

Eleven couldn’t help but stand there with his breath taken away and utterly speechless. 

“Lost there?”

Eleven snapped out of it to notice a short rotund man approach him. He looked to be an older gentleman, about early 60s and a dark-blue tunic.

“Y-Yes, sir. I was taken back by everything.”

“Ah yes, it’s not hard to get blown away by this place. So what can I help you with? The name’s Tablio, by the way.”

“If you could please help me, I’m looking for a gentleman named Edmund. I was supposed to meet with him about setting up shop here. I’m a painter from Cobblestone and I was told to come here to see him.”

“Edmund! Well, you’re in the right place son! I can lead you to him. Don’t worry about your horse, he has a small stable that would fit her nicely.”

“Thank you kindly!”

So Eleven followed the kind gentleman across town and tried his hardest not to get distracted by everything. There was so much life and activity here that he figured he would never be bored at all. They walked past the fountain and alongside another building before getting to a standalone, two-story establishment that was overshadowed by the taller nearby buildings. That didn’t mean it still has its style as the red vertical banners hung parallel to the windows and the front door, which was crafted with dark oak and cast-iron steel twisted and nailed into the wood. On the windowsills, small gardens were growing rather steadily and were even budding a few flowers.

“Here it is. He should be home at this hour.”

Tablio knocked on the door and they waited a moment before the door opened to reveal another man, this time not a day past 40 and was dressed like one of the wealthier merchants that carried priceless goods back and forth. From what Dunstan had told about him, that wasn’t far off from the truth.

“Greetings Tablio! You haven’t aged a bit!”

“Ah, but it sure feels like it. Being old isn’t easy.”

“It certainly isn’t. Who is this young fellow?”

“This is Eleven. He’s been looking for you, something about setting up his painting business here from Cobblestone.”

Eleven nodded and handed the letter to Edmund, who looked it over.

“Ah yes! I remember you! Dunstan told me to be expecting you. Let’s get your horse settled in at the stable. I’m sure the two of you have been tired from the traveling.”

“Yes, thank you! She hasn’t been this far before.”

“As they both walked around to the back of the building, they came to the stable that was larger than any stable that Eleven had ever seen before. There were seven stalls, four were taken for the time being, and they were large enough to walk around in. Eleven took off the two bags on the saddle that held some art supplies and some home essentials. 

“The one at the end hasn’t been used in a while, so why not place her there?”

Eleven gently encouraged Helena to follow him to the stable at the end of the row and got her inside, where she got comfortable immediately by kneeling down into the warm straw. 

“I’ll be back in a little bit, okay? There’s just some things I have to do first,” He spoke softly to her before getting back up and locking the door behind him and meeting back with the two older gentlemen.

“She’ll be nice and warm here. I have a few boys coming in the morning to do the usual stable cleaning and grooming. Now to show you to your own home,” Edmund assured him.

Eleven tried to keep his excitement under wraps but found it difficult to do so.

•••

Nice and easy was the way to do it.

Erik silently watched as the old man was tending to his vendor. He had been hiding amongst the crates for the past ten minutes waiting for his back to turn. He had been doing this since he was five years old and he had to in order to survive. The upper crust were never kind to folks like him, wishing they never existed.

A young woman approached the gentleman and began to engage in conversation.

This was his one chance before he closed up shop. 

While the gentleman was distracted, Erik slowly reached a hand for the stack of apples next to him. He slowly reached for the one on the edge that wouldn't be noticed if missing.

He scored one and placed it in his bag. Now for round two.

He slowly snuck a hand out to the same corner that he grabbed the first one. Steady, steady, easy now…

"HEY!"

Erik had just enough time to snatch the second apple and book it with a five second head start. The one advantage on his side was that he was wickedly fast, so he sped through the turns of the town. He had to get to the stairwell that led to downtown. A man like him would never wander down there if he was smart.

He rushed behind some tall crates as the merchant raced by. He held his breath, not wanting to be given away. In his arm, he tightly held the small bag like it was his lifeline.

After waiting a few minutes and seeing the coast was clear, he darted for the stairs and traveled into downtown. He saw he was safe and went to go into a nearby alley to his favorite hideaway from the world, his little place of home with its thick tarp ceiling and worn pillows and a torn blanket.

Home sweet home.

Erik emptied out the bag he was carrying showing the two apples that he managed to snag. He took one of them and took a bite, feeling better with something to fight his hunger.

He laid on his back and looked up into the dusky sky, staring up at the starry view. He immediately caught a shooting star in the limited view he had and immediately prayed a wish in his heart.

He wished for a better life, hoping his life would change for good.

Erik took another bite and his mind started to wander about what it was like to be someone like those of the merchant and upper classes. He began to dream about the lavish environments, the boisterous parties and the feeling of not caring at all about having to struggle for basic needs. 

That must be nice. 

Erik pulled the torn blanket up and covered up as much as he could, having trouble for a few minutes of falling asleep until his body got used to it. A dream started forming not long after that.

He was inside a small room where everything was in one place. There was a small bed, an actual bed next to a brick oven that had a slab in it to make it like a stove. The single counter on the other side of the brick oven had a small sink. In the other corner of the room, there were several canvases, both blank and used, lying about along with a bunch of art supplies neatly put away in little containers that hung on the wall.

There was a person in the room and that was what drew him the most.

The person was only a few inches taller than him, his body slender with a bit of muscle underneath. His chestnut bowlcut was tied back with a baby-blue bandana tied around his head. He was in the process of sweeping the floor and letting it fly out the door. He was dressed in nothing but what looked like a smock and some loose pants but that didn't detract from his facial features.

Erik could've swore that he was looking at an angel in human form. His dewy, blue-gray eyes carried a sense of gentleness, and his face looked soft like wool. His smile was kind and happy. 

There was no way that someone like that could truly exist, surely.

Why was he dreaming about this beautiful man? Was his mind playing tricks with him? He didn't even know him so why was this a thing?

Regardless, he didn't want to dream to end, not when he hoped to meet him for real. 

He shifted in his sleep and finally felt relaxed.

Maybe that wish would soon be more than a wish...


	2. Patched Up

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After getting beaten up and battered, the thief finds himself in the home and care of the stranger from his dreams
> 
> (tw: implied abuse offscreen)

It’s been happening every night for the past several days that Erik would see that man in his dreams, each time more vivid than the last. He could see his face so clearly.

His eyes.

His smile.

Even his voice.

Once being fearful of the night and what hid in the shadows, he’d be comforted by the sweet yet mysterious man in his dreams. He took it to mean a sign from above that somehow knew his future and what it would hold for him. 

Was he in Heliodor? Erik hoped he was. He had to be.

He quietly prayed that he was, just to see his face.

A different day, same happenings. Downtown was its usual sleazy, crime-ridden self. Everything from an abundance of prostitutes that would actively try to win your affections for a little money to slick, sneaky rogues that would rob each other blind to keep themselves alive to vagabonds drowning their life away at the local bar.

There was only one real way to get out of Downtown and into the main section of Heliodor but you would have to bribe the guards to do it and they would only take really expensive ones from the rich royals who “just want a little taste of the Other Side”. 

That’s what they say to keep people out of trouble and in line.

Erik had figured out a path, rather by accident, that on the side where his hideout was near the wall was a hole that led directly to the upper district. It was covered in some old rags behind some barrels that no one bothered to move or do anything with. Erik has had to utilize this path in order to steal food from the upper district. 

Which is exactly why he came to this spot again.

His stomach growled a low rumble. He had to make another errand to see if he could snatch anything. So he lifted the cloth blocking the hole in the wall and crawled through with no trouble, putting the cloth back in place. It was practically a miracle no one saw this place. 

Oh his hands and knees, he crawled on the ground, ignoring the plethora of spider webs thicker than fog and the occasional bugs that crawled on the walls. In no time at all, he reached the other side and hid behind some of the crates, dusting himself off. Taking a moment to breathe and get into the right headspace, he then peeked over the crates to scan the marketplace that was lively and boisterous like it usually was. He had to plan this out as a wrong move could lead to him getting beaten up, or worse, death. 

He watched the people walking to spot an opening and reach the more open displays to make grabbing easier. He snuck behind some other crates to get a different view and found himself next to a vegetable stand with an open display of its own.

Well, that was easy.

Erik had to stay calm to make this work.

The owner was busy talking with a customer and Erik had to time this just right. Tip-toeing until he got close enough, he reached out painfully slow in order to arouse sudden suspicion. He was almost there…

He grabbed the potato.

“HEY!”

Erik floored it down the lane. He thought he was fast enough until he looked behind and was shocked to find two taller men tearing through towards him. He almost lost his breath but he had to keep running.

Surely they wouldn’t be stupid and go downtown, would they?

It was just a potato! The guy had hundreds he could sell!

Erik rounded several corners with his pursuers close behind, hoping to lose them soon. He had wicked stamina but it was starting to fade. He saw the entrance to downtown and went for it, hoping for freedom. 

Or so he thought.

\-----

Eleven was on the other side of the marketplace, getting his groceries for the week. He heard some commotion but thought nothing of it. 

“Two Gold each for the apples, hun.”

Eleven picked out the ones he wanted, which were four and paid the lady accordingly. He put the apples in his bag alongside his other goods. 

That should do it for the time being. 

Eleven strolled down the marketplace and looked around at all of the vendors selling their wares and goods. Some were food, some were flowers and some were even home goods. The marketplace really was rather fascinating.

There was one more spot that he wanted to go to, and that was to a little art shop in the downtown district. Being aware of the dangers of going to such a place, he held his bag close to him and entered the pathway to get downtown. Luckily, the art shop in question was close to the entrance so he wouldn’t have to trek too far and risk getting mugged. 

The quaint, little shop in question juxtaposed against the massive, dilapidated structures that loomed overhead, like going to grandmother’s house in the winter woods. He opened the door and heard a bell overhead.

“Hello there! You’re a new face here, I can tell.”

“Yes ma’am, I just moved in a short time ago in town.”

“Well, I’m Ms. Diaz. Wander around and see if there’s anything you like! I can even make a deal on some of these.”

“Thank you.”

Eleven looked around the little store and saw that even the size of the place didn’t matter to the vast array of painting supplies displayed. He needed to get some of his brushes replaced anyway, they were looking a little thin on the brush-head. 

“I assume folks have been telling you about down here?”

“Yes ma’am, they’ve been on top of that.”

“That’s good on them. This place ain’t kind of place to be when it’s night out or by yourself, though it’s not entirely bad. Looking for anything in particular?”

“Just some brushes. Some of the ones I have need to be replaced.”

“Ah, that happens. Well, for next time, since you’re new here, I wanna let you in on a practice I do. See if you bring in some of your older brushes, I can mark down the replacements for a lower price. I take older brushes and restore them. It’s not too hard, most paintbrushes are built the same.”

Eleven noted some of the paintbrushes that he needed and picked a few of them out. He brought them to the counter to pay for them.

“This is gonna all for ya?”

He nodded.

“Alright, does ten Gold sound good?”

It did indeed and Eleven paid the woman. 

\-----

He laid there on the ground, dazed. His body was weak and battered but at least the pain was numbing away. He didn't even have the strength to lift himself off of the ground. So he laid there, on his stomach with the limited vision that he had from the black eye he had on his left eye. He looked down the alley and at first, he saw people walking by but paying him no heed to help him.

His eyes began to get watery. He really was all alone and he could die at any moment with no one caring that he did.

This was it.

He started to blackout, but not before he saw someone in the distance stop and look into the alley where he was.

His last sight was a figure approaching him before his eyes shut.

\-----

Eleven couldn't have run fast enough. There was a person there who was bleeding and battered and no one was helping him.

He had to help him, he couldn't just lie there!

Eleven clutched his bag of paintbrushes and food and ran down the alley to the young man on the ground. His heart was beating rapidly like a hummingbird's wings.

He crashed on his knees and threw aside his bags, kneeling in front of the injured person and carefully flipping him over onto his back. 

“I’m gonna get you out of this. I’m gonna take you home and patch you up. Please hang in there!”

His injuries were too severe to help walk on his own, so Eleven took his bags and swung them over his shoulder and digging his hands under his back and under the knees, he bridal-carried the poor soul out of the alley. His head rested gently on his shoulder, appearing almost to be sleeping if he wasn't so banged up.

Thank the night for providing some dark cover so that he could carry him in peace. He went up the stairs and through the tunnel out of Downtown Heliodor and to his home at the end of the street. There were not many people out as many of them had gone home for the evening. 

He had managed to unlock the door and step inside, first going to the bed and laying him down on it, at least making him comfortable. After setting his bags, he went to grab a small chest in his studio across the place and bring it back to the bed. Setting it on the ground, he took out some gauze and some ointment for his wounds. 

\-----

Erik was feeling consciousness slip back and the pain as well, though it wasn't as bad this time. The first thing that came to him was the smell of food being cooked nearby, something like meat maybe? He looked down at his body and started noticing the bandages and gauze on his body where his wounds were. 

He tried to get up from his bed but found it incredibly difficult to do so as he moved an inch and felt pain shoot through his body, causing him to groan.

"Easy, easy, easy! You're beaten up pretty bad, so don't push it." A concerned voice quietly said.

He lifted his head to see a stranger approach him. He didn't even have the strength to gasp.

_It was him, and sweet Goddess he looked so much more like an angel in person._

"Are you alright?" He heard him ask, concerned.

"Yeah, with you here."

"Well, it's good that I found you when I did."

"Kinda hard to miss bright blue hair."

"You're not wrong…"

Erik felt his hands checking the bandages, soft and warm and the most wonderful feeling in the world. For the first time in his life, he actually felt safe. 

"It's going to be a little while to heal so you have to rest as much as you can."

Even his voice sounded gentle, like a mother soothing her child. His voice was enough to lull Erik into content vulnerability. 

"Are you an angel?" Erik asked him innocently.

The stranger’s face blushed pink.

"A-An angel?"

"Yeah."

"N-No I'm not."

"Oh, well you look one. You really are the one from my dreams."

"Your dreams?"

"Yeah, for the past week I kept seeing you in my dreams and I wanted to meet you. Just in more… nicer circumstances." 

The stranger wasn't quite sure of what to say to this but his pink-tinted face spoke volumes. 

"May I at least have your name?"

"Eleven. You?"

"Erik."

"It's nice to meet you," Eleven replied with a kind smile. They both heard sudden boiling and Eleven turned his attention to his left, out of Erik's view, who couldn't turn his body to look because of the injuries. 

"Something wrong?"

"It's just the stew. I just need to check it."

Eleven got up from his spot and walked over to the stew pot. The place had a heavenly aroma in the air and Erik's stomach almost snarled. Man, the hunger was much worse than he thought it was.

Eleven came back around with a bowl of stew and pulled the nearby chair to sit down. Erik tried to sit up some and grab the bowl, but Eleven insisted that he be hand-fed due to his injuries in an effort to not strain himself. Erik eventually gave up and had to take what was given, so Eleven spoon-fed him the first bite.

Erik thought he saw stars, it was _that_ good.

He looked expectant for the next bite and Eleven happily fed it to him.

"Is it good?"

Erik quickly nodded.

So Eleven took his time and fed him every last bite and got up to put on a second helping. He noted how thin Erik and he felt his own heart breaking. Well, there was enough stew here so it wasn't as though there wasn't enough to go around.

Erik was able to clear the second bowl before the feeling of drowsy came on, making his flutter his eyes. He was warm, fed and patched up and it felt so soothing to be cared for once in his life.

Maybe he'll let him stay…?

Erik couldn't fight back sleep anymore and soon Eleven saw him passed out in bed, blissfully asleep. It was sad to think that he had been raised in the streets and that he had to fight to survive.

He felt his heart growing soft at the thought of him being here. An angel? Being in his dreams? Maybe there was something in store for him?

If Erik wanted to, he could stay here and live with him. He'd have to explain to Edmund about having a second person here, but he was sure he wouldn't have a problem as long as the rent was paid. 

A thought came to him. Why not have Erik be his personal model? This way he had an excuse in case he was asked. He used his neighbors back in his hometown for his works but he was new here. Maybe Erik wouldn't object?

Until he got better, he had to get better first.

Eleven washed, happily in his thoughts and thinking about the cute boy he was taking care of in the nearby bed.


	3. Get to Know You

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> They are slowly beginning to learn about each other and through little things become even closer.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Between college and other irl stuff as well as a few writer's blocks, I'm surprised this got done at all.
> 
> Well, here it is! To make up for the long wait, the fic is much longer than the first two chapters combined (about 15 pages on Google Docs), and full of fluff and love ^^
> 
> Enjoy!

It had been a few days since Erik had been taken into his home since that horrible incident and never had he felt safer than he did since. He was patched up regularly, fed three times a day, and warm in a bed that was whole leagues better than the thin blanket and solid ground. Even better still, he was in the home from the angel he dreamed about, the one that saved his life and took care of him. He’d be tempted to cry if he wasn’t so sore from the injuries. 

“How are you feeling?”

“Much better, but still sore.”

“I figured that it would be the case.”

A thought suddenly came to him: what was going to happen once he healed? He hoped that he wasn’t just sent on his way when he had no place to go and his heart wouldn’t be able to take it. He wanted to be by his side, that’s all.

He was still a little scared but Eleven couldn’t be that cruel.

“You look as though something’s bothering you. Are you worried about not having a place to go after you’re well again?”

He straight-up read him like a book cover to cover. How did he know that? Erik didn’t want to admit it, but there was no getting around this one with him. It looks like he already knew he was a street rat with not much of a home to speak of.

“....... Yeah.”

“Well, if it was alright with you, I would actually like for you to stay here.”

“Wait, really?”

“Yes! You see, since I came here, I haven’t been able to paint people as much because it’s hard to do without some kind of reference. I haven’t gotten that skilled yet. So I was wondering if you could be my personal model for me.”

"Your personal model? Are you sure?" Erik asked, his face a little confused as to why he would ever be considered for such a position.

"Positive."

"But I don't have much…"

"Don't worry about the rent, I can take care of that. All you have to worry about is healing until you're well again."

He's only been here a few days and he already wants to kiss him.

_Sweet Goddess, how did he get so lucky?_

“What about your landlord?”

“I told him you were staying with me because of what happened. If I explain to him that you’re going to be my painting model, he’ll be more likely to let you stay with me just so long as the rent is paid every month. Fortunately, he’s been rather lax about letting other people stay but this is also a rather low-end part of town. Still safer than downtown, I bet.”

“Are you kidding? You have easy access to food, you have decent shops and stuff, and the people here don’t try to rob each other blind every five seconds. Believe me, you’re much better off here.”

“If you say so. Well, let me see what I can do with these wounds; they’re healing well.” Eleven took to examining the wounds before doing anything further. Erik looked up at him shyly and felt his hands check his bandages. Seeing that they were better than before, he watched as Eleven took a moment to focus with his hands in front of him and hovering over his body, glowing light green. Erik felt his body getting warm in a soothing way as the healing magic mended his wounds that were still there. 

He really was an angel in human form.

* * *

Erik was able to get out of bed with only a little trouble, much to Eleven’s delight. He could move around a little before having to sit down, but it was still progress nonetheless. 

“I wish my magic would work a little better but at least it’s working.”

“I don’t know how you’re doing it, but it helps a lot more than you think it does.”

“Well, that’s good at least. I have to run some errands in town for a little while, picking up food and the like. Would you be okay to watch the house for a little while? I shouldn’t be too long.”

“That’s fine! You go do what you have to.”

Eleven gave him a sweet smile and Erik felt his chest swell up a little. His heart was beating a little faster than normal but he couldn’t help it. He really had fallen for the lovely artist and was ever grateful to the Goddess above that he was able to stay by his side, or at least near him.

The door shut behind Eleven, leaving Erik in the house by himself. The home felt a little lonely but he knew that Eleven would come eventually. Now what to do in that period of time until he gets back was the question of the hour. Maybe he could clean, some spots at a time, but then he noted that he kept his place rather tidy so that may be a little hard to do.

Erik looked around and noticed a little flower pot in the windowsill just by the front door. If Eleven hadn’t already, he could water the flower so that it didn’t die too quickly. With just a slight soreness, he got up from the bed and walked into the little kitchen to grab a small cup of water. He found a clean ceramic cup and brought up some water in it. He then turned and walked towards the flower pot. His footsteps weren’t the sturdiest but his hand holding the cup had a rather strong grasp on it. Erik hoped that he wouldn’t break it before putting it back, the last thing he would ever want to do was piss off the kind stranger that helped heal him and get him back on his feet. 

He got to the windowsill and carefully poured the water in the potting soil, watching as the rich soil drank up the cool liquid like a sponge. Seeing that the soil was moist, he withdrew the cup and drank the rest of the water, not wanting it to go to waste. He brought the cup back to the sink where he found a clean washrag and proceeded to wash the cup inside and out, making it shine in the light. He gently placed the cup back where he found it before pulling a chair to sit down and rest a minute. He had to be careful not to push it too much, he was still just a little sore. 

So that was one chore that he did, but that was way too short in terms of time. He needed something that would hold him over for at least an hour. 

He laid his head in his arms as he rested on the table. He lazily looked around at the room he was in and noticed the open door leading to the small studio. Curiosity piqued his interest as he lifted his head and stood up from the table, walking to the direction of the open door. Leaning on the door for support, he cautiously walked in, his eyes wide open and his mouth open agape. 

He certainly was a serious artist if his studio set-up was this legitimate.

One entire wall was covered side-to-side with nothing but pails containing various tools and accessories. An old, painted smock hung in the nearby corner and needed a serious wash, though Erik wasn’t sure if he could even get all of the paint stains out of it. 

Good Goddess, this place was _messy._

It most likely wasn't intentional but it was something to do while Eleven was away. He grabbed a chair to sit down in and noted the abundance of paintbrushes on the table. He picked up a few of them to note that they were labeled with numbers etched in the wood. Turning to the wall with the paintbrush buckets, he noted the numbers on them and put them back into their appropriate buckets. It didn't take long at all before all the brushes were put back into their proper place. Seeing that was completed, he turned his attention to the other side of the room to see what he could clean and was amazed at the other side of the small room that carried some of the prettiest works of art he had ever seen. It was a mix of floral still life to countryside landscapes and even people.

There was a gentle feeling to the pieces. Could they have been from another time or place in Eleven's life? He never asked what his life was like before he came here but going off of his accent he could tell that he was from way out of town. He sat in his chair and got lost in the world of his works. 

So lost that he didn't hear the door opening and Eleven coming back from his errands. 

"I'm home! Erik are you here?"

Eleven looked around but couldn't find where he had gone. He looked around the apartment and noticed that the plant by the front window had been watered and the cup cleaned and by the sink. He then took a look into his studio and noted that it looked cleaner than the last that he left it, like his paintbrushes back in order and his table cleared. He turned and found Erik sitting in front of his private gallery. He seemed to be deep into wonder over the paintings.

He had never thought that his paintings were anything that special but to Erik, they could be something like gold to him. 

"Are all of these yours?" He heard Erik ask.

"I'm sorry?"

"Did you paint these yourself?"

"Y-Yes, I did."

"They're beautiful."

Eleven tried to hide the pleasant surprise on his face. Erik just looked enamored with the art.

"Th-Thank you."

Erik got up from his chair to face him. He had probably been sitting there long enough, he could view these some more if he wanted to, honestly. 

"Did you water the plant?"

"I did."

"Cleaned my work table and put the paintbrushes away?"

"That, too."

Erik started feeling a little nervous; was it because he was worried about getting yelled at for putting stuff away that he shouldn't have.

"Oh, thank you. I didn't expect you to do those things but they're appreciated. Also, I apologize for the state of the studio; when I get engrossed in my work, I forget to clean." Eleven bashfully confessed.

"It's fine, it happens."

So he helped Eleven get the food sorted on the table. It was just some basic stuff but to Eleven, this was double what he was getting before. He was now providing for a second person and while he didn’t mind, he also had to watch things like money.

“Have you been getting any commissions since you moved in?” Erik questioned.

“Commissions no, but I did have someone buy one of my smaller paintings for 500 Gold so there was that.”

“You’ll probably get some more once you put your name out there. But, speaking of out there, where are you from? Those paintings seem to have a common theme of the countryside.”

“Oh! They’re from home. I’m from a little village called Cobblestone, which isn’t that far from here.”

“Cobblestone?”

“Yeah, it’s a smaller place by the mountains. You’d like it, it beautiful there.”

Judging from the looks of the paintings, it certainly did sound like a nice place. Lots of sprawling farmland and little stone houses…

It sounded idyllic.

“I wasn’t sure what kind of foods you’d like so I got several different things.”

This was a lot more food than what Erik was used to, and he almost didn’t know what to say. Eleven wasn’t just taking care of him, he actually wanted him to live here. It was rather kind of him.

“Erik?”

Hm? Oh sorry! My mind decided to wander…”

“That’s alright, it happens. Do you want to try a stir-fry tonight? I haven’t made it too much but I figured it would be something different to try.”

Sweet Goddess, the name alone made it sound delicious. Erik could almost feel his mouth water.

“Sure!”

So that night, Eleven taught Erik how to cut the vegetables and how to cook with spices and sauces. It took some time but Erik soaked up the new knowledge like a sponge. He didn't think that food could be any better than what he was used to before. 

Soon, Erik found himself fondly glancing at him again, just like the first time they met. 

_Goddess above, he really had fallen for this country artist, hadn’t he?_

**Later that Evening**

Erik was so full he almost didn’t want to move; the food was that _good_. He couldn’t remember the last time he ate that well, if at all. 

“Was the meal okay?”

“Are you kidding? That was honestly a meal out of a dream! For something that you haven’t tried before, it’s really good.”

“Well, I’m glad it came out okay!” Eleven replied with a soft smile.

Erik’s heart was doing the thing again where he got soft and melted. He really had become a softie, hadn’t he? 

“So what now?”

“Well, what I usually do is have a bath and then get to bed.”

A bath sounded foreign yet wonderful. At least he could properly enjoy out without having to worry about injuries or anything.

“That sounds good.”

“I can help you if you’d like.”

Erik blushed; he may have had feelings for him but not like THAT just yet.

“No no, it’s alright, I can take care of that myself.”

“Are you sure?”

“Positive.”

“Alright, if you insist.”

That was a close one, but Erik almost wished he could help him, if only he was willing to take the relationship that far. He got up from his chair and followed Eleven to the bathroom to get the bath running. 

The bathroom was a small room but it still was rather hospitable. The wooden window shutters were closed at the moment but had they been open, they would have provided a much stronger light than the candles around the room would have produced. There was a little houseplant of succulents by the window on a shelf. It was the first time that Erik had actually noticed the room since he healed.

Small and cozy. 

“There we go! The soap is on this little shelf here and keep the bath-plug in so that I can go after you. If you need anything, just call.”

“I will, thank you.”

Eleven gave him a sweet smile before walking out, leaving Erik alone. He took one look at the bath in front of him and noted the steam coming up. Grabbing onto the tub wall, he carefully eased his foot in, first recoiling at the temperature but then eased in and found the water was just really warm. He relaxed immediately, letting the warm water erase the ache off of his bones. He didn’t move for a minute, not wanting to because of how good it felt.

But he couldn’t stay in there forever, so he went to grab the nearby soap bar from the little shelf that Eleven mentioned and stared at it for a moment. He vaguely remembered Eleven using it to clean his body but he wasn’t sure if it was all over or just in several spots. He decided to do it all over, first starting with his arms and then his face and neck. Was he doing it right? He wasn’t sure, but seeing the dust sliding off of his body sent the message that he was doing something right. He eventually worked on the rest of his body, slowly rubbing the bar into his skin. Erik felt cleaner than he had ever felt in his life, and to be honest, it felt like a luxury. 

“Are you okay in here?” Eleven popped in to check on him and noticed that he tried to use the soap on his body. He had already dressed himself down for the evening but not completely until he took a bath himself. 

“Oh, I’m fine. I’m almost done.”

“Have you also washed your hair?”

Erik looked at him confused and then Eleven remembered that the bathing process may be a bit foreign to him. 

“May I help?”

“Help me wash my hair? Y-You don’t have to do that.”

“It’s not so bad, plus it’ll feel better after a good wash. Is it dyed?”

If Erik had a gold coin for every time someone asked if his hair was natural, he’d be the richest man in Heliodor. 

“Ummm, no it’s natural.”

“Oh! I just wanted to ask so that I don’t accidentally wash the color out of it if it was dyed.”

That made sense to Erik.

“Are you sure you don’t mind?”

“Not at all! You probably haven’t done it enough so I can show you.” He gave a kind smile.

“If it’s okay with you…”

Erik sat there a moment as Eleven prepared the hair wash lotion in his hands. After a moment, Erik was taken aback by how unusually soft his hands were and practically melted in the bathwater as Eleven massaged his hair. Sweet Goddess, those hands were divine.

“Are you alive down there?”

Erik quickly rose back up at the sound of the question, realizing he was probably out of it for too long.

“Ye-Yeah! Totally! I’m good… Sorry, your hands just felt nice…”

“Oh, that’s alright.” Eleven responded, his cheeks a little pink.

Well, that could’ve been more embarrassing but Erik was willing to roll with it. 

_Later That Evening_

“I’m a little scared to ask this, but where have you been sleeping while I was knocked out?”

“I usually just slept in the studio.”

“On the floor!?” 

“It’s alright, I had a spare blanket or two from home.”

“Still! Hey, I have no problems sharing the bed, since it is technically yours.”

Erik couldn’t believe what he just heard. There was no way this wonderful human being slept on the floor in his studio. Well, that wasn’t going to happen again.

“Are you sure you don’t mind?”

“I don’t if you don’t.”

Eleven was slightly taken aback by Erik’s insistence but he wasn’t wrong. The bed was big enough for both of them so it shouldn’t be a problem. Not to mention, he had shared a bed before with Gemma back home. 

Speaking of Gemma, he should probably write to her soon…

“Erdrea to Eleven, you coming?” Erik’s voice brought him out of his thoughts.

It was getting late.

Eleven peeled the covers back and went under first and summoned Erik over to slide in as well. Erik was at first reluctant but soon got under with him with no trouble. Once they got comfortable, they looked back at each other, both of them a little shy now. 

“Comfy?”

“Yeah. You?”

“I am.” 

“Good.”

They almost didn’t want to fall asleep so they laid there staring at each other softly. If Erik could capture this moment in time and freeze it in place, he would. He looked so soft at that moment, like the one from his dreams all that time ago.

Erik really could not believe how lucky he truly was. 

He felt himself start to drift away into sleep but not before he took one last look at his soft, sleeping face.

* * *

If Erik wasn’t a light sleeper, he would’ve never heard Eleven quietly whimpering next to him. He opened his sleepy eyes to see Eleven burying his face into his pillow and trembling. Erik noticed a little tear in his eye and that's when he knew that something was wrong. But what could he do? He can comfort him, sure, but how? 

Erik decided that he was going to make a bold move.

He reached one arm over Eleven's back and one under his side, pulling him into himself. He felt Eleven's head on his chest, his wet tears on his skin. He made another bold move and gently petted his hair, gently scratching his scalp in between. His whimpering seems to have gone away, his trembling, too.

Erik felt two arms wrap around his upper back with a gentle squeeze before relaxing. Eleven was calming down and that was the important thing. Erik continued to do what he knew and soon Eleven was back to sleep, this time in Erik's arms. His soft breathing gave some peace of mind to Erik.

Did he have a bad dream?

Did he think about something horrible?

Erik wasn't sure, but having a warm body on his was more on his mind right now. Eleven was really warm, which Erik didn't mind in the slightest. 

That warmness was able to lull Erik back to sleep, this time for the rest of the night…

The morning came and it revealed Eleven still in Erik's arms, both of them peacefully passed out. The morning was quiet.

Until Eleven stirred awake.

The first thing he felt was warm skin on half of his face and the arms that loosely surrounded him. Erik was still asleep but Eleven was wide-awake at the position that he found himself in. Did something happen while they slept? He did seem to recall a rather horrible dream by he was confused as to why Erik was on top of him.

Erik stirred in his sleep and Eleven held his breath. Erik's eyes slowly blinked open and his vision started to clear. Eleven wasn't sure if he should move or stay put.

"G' morning. Did you sleep a little easier last night?" Erik asked, his voice drowsy.

"I believe I did, though I'm not sure why we're like this."

Erik sat up some and rested on his side, facing Eleven. His mind hadn't kicked in yet.

"Well, you were whimpering and shaking in your sleep last night and I thought that maybe you had a bad dream or somethin', so I held you close and it worked." 

So he did have a bad dream last night. That would also explain why Erik was cuddling him. 

"So that's why I woke up this morning to being cuddled."

Erik's brain was finally awake enough to comprehend what Eleven just said. His eyes widened and he sat up quickly in shock. 

"I-I'm sorry if that was really weird, I just thought that would help…!"

This took Eleven aback but he rebounded and tried to calm Erik down. The poor thing was only trying to help and now things were awkward.

Well, not quite.

"Erik, it's alright! I was just surprised because I didn't realize that helped so much."

"It did?"

"Yeah, it… Kinda nice. Comforting."

"It really didn't bother you?"

"Nope."

Erik wasn't sure what to say at that point but he felt his own hands in Eleven's and looked up to be greeted by that sweet face he fell in love with a few days ago.

"It's still a little early if you want to rest some more."

"Yeah, that would be nice."

So they got back under the covers and made sure that the other was comfy. 

"So you wanna cuddle again?"

"If it's okay with you."

Erik felt his chest swell with happiness as he felt himself being pulled into Eleven, feeling warm again. Eleven's arms were behind his back and his hands felt so soft. Erik ducked his head under Eleven's chin and rested there, being perfectly content like a cat that found the perfect napping spot.

Maybe they could get used to this. 

_A Few Days Later_

Erik was admiring the view outside the window with nothing, in particular, to look at. He was only posing for Eleven as he painted on a new canvas. Eleven had an idea of painting Erik looking out the window, waiting expectantly for someone, like a lover waiting for his sweetheart. 

The pose was perfect.

The lighting from the window is perfect.

The model is _definitely_ perfect.

The home was quiet save for the sounds of brushstrokes on the canvas. Eleven wanted Erik to be as comfortable as possible, hence the simple posing. It would also be a good lighting study.

"So how far along are you on me?" Erik asked, only moving his mouth.

"I've gotten your head, face, and upper chest. I got the background first to make things easier."

"The background, too? That was fast."

"Well, one has to be but you get faster the more you practice."

"Makes sense."

The studio became quiet again, but a content one. Erik continued to be patient as Eleven could do what he could in the three hours that he had to paint. 

Erik felt like some important aristocrat that get his portraits done every year or so, and it helped boost his self-esteem a little. No longer a street rat, but some high royal official. 

One does like being important. 

"I think we should stop for the day, it's been about three hours."

Erik slid off of the stool he was sitting on, getting feeling back into his legs and went to join Eleven at his side as he added some tiny final touches for the time being. 

"See? The background was a little easier to work with because there was no light to worry about…" Eleven rambled, pointing out the little things. Erik held on to his every word, fascinated by how Eleven thought and painted.

How Eleven didn't sell out of his entire collection was a mystery to him. 

"Should we continue some more later?"

"It'll be too dark later. That's alright, there are a few projects I can work on in the meantime. But if you'd like, I can show you how to paint."

Erik perked up at the question. _Eleven teaching him how to paint? That sounded fun._

"Sure, if you want."

He watched Eleven beam happily and dashed into his studio. Erik's heart melted and he could feel himself falling in love all over again. He watched Eleven come back with a clean canvas and place it carefully onto the easel. He moved some of his paints closer to them and offered Erik a brush, a thin one to start with. He took the spot directly behind Erik on his bench and dipped his brush into the purple paint container. 

“Okay, so the most important thing is to always keep your brush wet. Since these are oil paints, you don't have to worry about them getting ruined with water, though they can take some time to dry. Let’s start with some basic lines…” Eleven explained as he first painted two straight lines to show Erik, who responded by taking his own paintbrush, dipping it in the blue color and tried his best to make his own line, albeit with an unsteady hand. 

“It’s good for a first attempt, but your hand will get better when you use it more.”

They both made some more lines with Erik gradually getting the hang of it. His hand was still a little shaky but Eleven assured him that they were very good.

“Sometimes you can make gradients out of the lines.”

“Gradients?”

“It’s basically when you take two colors and combine them to make a new one by showing the progression. Here, we can do right here!” Eleven pointed out as he took his brush and noted two lines next to each other, one blue and one purple. Using his brush, he combined the remaining wet paint and mixed them in the middle to make a darker blue to meld with the purple. Erik didn’t think one could do that in a painting but it made so much sense. 

“It’s so pretty…”

‘You wanna try making one?”

“Sure!”

“Okay, let me help,” Eleven offered as he placed his hand on his and gently guided him over two more lines and, with Eleven’s help, watched intently as the colors melded together like the last one and he was amazed even more by what was created, this time by his own hand technically.

“So what do you think?”

Erik didn’t know what to say but his growing excitement spoke thousands. Eleven couldn’t help but smile at how cute he was and soon they were devoting time to coloring the entire canvas of those two colors alone. 

It would be another hour before they finished up their own masterpiece, not to be sold but for their own home. Eleven promised to construct a nice frame for it, but for the time being, the finished canvas sat in his studio, wrapped in a special cloth. 

Erik still couldn’t get his mind off the fact that Eleven had his hand on his when they were painting together. It was soft and gentle like he was.

He looked back at Eleven, who was cleaning the brushes and putting them away. His heart felt a little light that day and full of love.


End file.
